


Broken Me, Broken You

by forgetpoundgivemekoenig



Series: React [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:44:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetpoundgivemekoenig/pseuds/forgetpoundgivemekoenig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Listen closely, Cora, because that's the beauty of life. You will forgive him and, better yet, you'll never even know you have." </p><p>In which Boyd made a promise, now as broken as his body, and Cora will never forgive him. Never.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Me, Broken You

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think Boyd and Cora were good friends.

She was in a vault with him for a very long time. 

It's the only thing she can think as she kneels beside the broken, bleeding body and cries out for him to just get up, goddammit. The Boyd she knew in that vault would never give up like this, never, because they promised each other that much the moment he knew Erica wasn't coming back. Cora's always been hard to please and even harder to crack, but she was cracked by Boyd and he managed to make her laugh in that god forsaken vault and he PROMISED, dammit, and now he's broken that promise and she'll never forgive him. Never. 

"Boyd, please." She sobs and clutches his hand and Derek is standing up, leaving with Stiles because, in the wake of it all, he can't seem to move on his own. Cora ignores them both. She only has eyes, words, tears for Boyd. 

His hand is growing cold in hers and she brings it to her chest, leans down to press her ear over his heart, shudders at the silence. Still, she keeps her head there, pillowed against what was once a cavity of working parts, and imagines she can hear the steady beat of his functioning heart amidst the rumble of his voice. She always liked the way he spoke; slow and full of everything. He was guarded but he had a gate in his walls, not like Isaac or Derek, who always looked like they were dancing with their ghosts, keeping them close to avoid revealing their faces. 

Boyd was/is/always will be special. 

She lets one hand fist the material of his shirt and hears footsteps, soft but confident, approaching from the doorway. She doesn't look up, thinking it's Derek or someone to grieve along with her. She doesn't care who. She doesn't care who. She doesn't care-

It's Peter. 

She stiffens as he settles down too close to her, to Boyd, for comfort. He doesn't say anything, just sits and waits, and she can't relax with him this close. Even not knowing the story, or rather not having a part in it, she doesn't trust her uncle as far as she can throw him. There's something conniving in the way he smiles and something slimy in the way he says "niece" and "nephew". Like they owe him something for sharing his blood. 

She doesn't owe him anything. 

"He was a good wolf." 

When he speaks his voice is level and without remorse, like he can't be bothered to care. She wants to rip him to shreds for being so goddamn nonchalant, but she knows it'll be to no avail. Ripping Peter to shreds physically is like ripping him to shreds verbally; he always manages to cut you down the middle in the process. Only a few weeks with the monster and she's learned this much. She remains silent, but her tears are drying in the heat of her anger, and her sobs are replaced with low growls. 

"You knew him well."

"We were trapped together." She bites and Peter makes a low sound of agreement, understanding. 

"Yes, that tends to do the trick." 

Again, she keeps silent. 

"You know, he was my favorite." 

"Is that supposed to help?" 

"No, just a passing thought." 

Silence falls heavy and tense. She waits for him to cross a line and he toes it, investigates it, pushes his fingers softly against the boundary. He's testing her resolve without doing anything at all. Boyd's heart remains still and silent beneath her. 

"You'll forgive him." 

She tenses even more at the words and slowly lifts herself, rising to a level with her uncle, meeting his gaze with a steely one of her own, "What?" She asks softly and he shrugs casually, looking for all the world like he's got somewhere else to be. She wishes he would leave. He doesn't. Instead, he leans back and surveys her, not critical but not friendly, more like he's reading her. Like a book. Like an open book. 

She bares her teeth, fangs already growing. 

"No need to get those out, Cora, I was only trying to help." His voice to her nerves is like oil and water. 

"You aren't." The ache in her chest is no less prominent, but the anger is forcing it out of her mind, so maybe her heart skips a beat when she says it. He's not helping, god knows he never helps, but he's distracting. 

"You will forgive him, Cora." Peter repeats, as if she hasn't spoken, and she growls louder. He only smiles, "Trust me." 

"I already have." She spits, for lack of anything else, and her heart really does skip this time. She's grieving, yes, but she's also betrayed. She's so very betrayed. He made a promise and he got himself killed. She can't see past the irrationality. She'll never forgive him. 

"No. You haven't. But you will." Peter holds up a hand to stop her from interrupting, "Listen closely, Cora, because that's the beauty of life. You will forgive him and, better yet, you'll never even know you have. One day, you will wake up, and your heart will be lighter. One day, you will go to sleep, and you won't be nearly as afraid as before. I know a thing or two about forgiving, niece, god knows I've never really tried it. But, if Derek hadn't forgiven me, he never would have allowed me to help, and I wouldn't be here now. Forgiving, if nothing else, coincides with need. You forgive the people you need, much like you hate the people you need." 

Cora can't find anything to say, so she listens as Peter gets to his feet. 

"Mark my words, Cora, you'll forgive Boyd. And you'll be all the better for it." He glances down at her, where she's now back to pressing her fingers to Boyd's wrist, and almost looks sympathetic, "You're not going to feel anything, Cora." 

"I know." 

"No, you don't." Peter doesn't even turn on his way out the door, "I know what you're going through. I tried it too." 

She lets Boyd go only when she knows her uncle is gone. 

She doesn't try to keep from crying.


End file.
